


Obvious

by orphan_account



Series: Little Verse [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Coping mechanism, Little Space, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sickfic, little gerard, not sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Come on, Gerard, admit it. You take care of me just as much, it just isn’t as obvious to you."
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Little Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719784
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	Obvious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightsinthefloors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsinthefloors/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Use common sense. If this isn't your thing, or you're too immature to understand that this isn't a kink, please don't read.

Frank wakes up to coughing. 

He sits up and rubs his eyes, listening to see if he imagined it. He sighs sadly when he hears more coughing echoing from their bathroom, followed by Gerard throwing up. He had tried to tell Gerard he needed to slow down, that he was getting sick, but Gerard was too stubborn. He always stayed up way too late in the office to work on his sketches for another comic he was working on. Whenever he got too busy with commissions, he would keep himself up all night to complete his personal projects. It drove Frank mad to watch Gerard crawl into bed just as he was getting up to go to work. And he knew that Gerard would be up in just a couple hours to get started on his actual work. 

“You can’t keep running yourself in the ground,” Frank scolded, “Something has to change.”

Gerard had frowned into his coffee. “You want me to stop working on the comic?”

Frank reached out to take Gerard’s hand. “You know I don’t. You need your creative outlet, you get too crazy when you don’t work on your art.”

“Thanks,” Gerard drawled.

Frank rolled his eyes and ruffled Gerard’s hair. “You know what I mean, grumpy. I just mean you get too wound up and it’s difficult to be around you when you’re like that.”

Frank watched Gerard press his lips together to keep from saying something self-deprecating. Frank knew his words stung a little, but Gerard needed to hear them. To take this seriously. 

“I mean, you need to cut back on your commission work,” Frank said gently.

“That’s where the money comes from, Frank.”

“I make plenty for us to pay our bills without you killing yourself.”

“I don’t like not contributing.”

“You  _ are _ .”

“No, I can’t ask you to keep taking care of me,” Gerard mumbled, and Frank knew he was talking about more than just money now. 

Gerard had been spending less and less time in his little space. Frank had a suspicion it was because Gerard was feeling insecure about it, and now he knew he was right. 

“Gerard--”

“I don’t want to talk about it. And you’re going to be late for work if you don’t leave now.”   
And so Frank had dropped it. 

He crawls out of bed and follows the sickening sounds into their bathroom. He frowns, seeing Gerard on his knees in front of the toilet. His hands are gripping the porcelain rim and his whole body is rocking with sobs. He keeps shaking his head. “No more,” he whimpers.

Frank sits behind him and rubs his back gently, “Shh, baby, it’s ok.”

“No more,” Gerard whimpers again, “I got better.”

Frank freezes.

He hadn’t started dating Gerard until he was already a year clean, but he heard stories from Mikey about Gerard’s problem with drugs and alcohol. Mikey didn’t like to talk about it a lot, but Frank could fill in the blanks for himself. He could tell that it had been too close from the haunted look on Mikey’s face every time the subject was brought up. 

“You are better,” Frank whispers, stroking his back. “You’re safe.”

“No,” Gerard moans, and leans back over the toilet. 

Frank sighs and pushes Gerard’s hair back. “I’ve got you.”   
“I don’t want to die anymore, I promise,” Gerard rambles, “I’ll get better.”

It’s like Frank isn’t even here. He keeps rubbing his back, kissing his cheek, doing whatever he can to keep Gerard here with him. But, it’s like he’s too far in his memories. He’s in that scary part of his mind that Frank wishes didn’t even exist. 

Frank gets up and goes into the guest room, trying a different tactic. He grabs Gerard’s soft blanket with Star Wars characters on it and brings it with him into the bathroom. He takes Gerard’s hands off the toilet and makes him hold the blanket, rubbing the soft material against his hands. He watches Gerard slowly slip into his little space. He notices the tears stop falling from Gerard’s eyes and his downturned mouth quirk up a little as he traces Yoda on the blanket. 

“Hey, little one,” Frank whispers against Gerard, “Take a deep breath for me.”

Gerard hiccups and shakes his head.

“It’s just a tummy ache,” Frank says gently, “You’ll feel better, I promise.”

“Hurts,” Gerard mumbles, and Frank sighs a little at the tone of voice Gerard is using. 

Frank rubs his stomach and waits for a bit to make sure Gerard isn’t going to be sick again before flushing. “Come on, sweetie, let’s go lay on the couch. We can watch some cartoons.”

Gerard doesn’t argue, but Frank didn’t really expect him to. He gets Gerard set up on the couch, tucking the Star Wars blanket around him and turns on the TV. 

“I’ll go get something to help settle your tummy,” he says, and Gerard just nods with his eyes glued to the TV.

Frank wants to make him tea, but knows that little Gerard hates tea and ends up pulling out a can of ginger ale from the fridge instead. He might not like the taste as much, but he likes anything fizzy when he’s little. He says it tickles his nose when he drinks soda and Frank thinks that’s just the cutest thing he’s ever heard. Frank pours the soda in a no-spill sippy cup since Gerard is way too clumsy when he’s little. 

At first, Frank was hesitant in getting sippy cups for their apartment. In the beginning there was a lot of second guessing because Frank wasn’t really sure how far this thing went, for lack of a better explanation. He didn’t want to offend Gerard, but also he didn’t want to not support whatever this was either. But, after too many spilled juices on their couch and carpet, Frank decided to bite the bullet and buy the damn sippy cups. Gerard just smiled when he saw them in the cabinet one morning. 

He looks around their pantry for crackers, but only sees Goldfish, so he grabs those too. He smiles gently at Gerard, wrapped up in his blanket and sniffling. Frank sits down next to him and rests the back of his hand against Gerard’s forehead, frowning a bit at the warmth. “I knew you were going to wear yourself out,” he says softly. 

He dumps some Goldfish in his hand and holds them out to Gerard. Gerard looks hesitantly at Frank, then pushes Frank’s hand away and shakes his head. “No,” he whines.

“Ok,” Frank says softly, “You can try to eat in the morning.”

Gerard just pouts and crawls into Frank’s lap. “Cuddle,” he mumbles.

Frank grins and cradles Gerard to him, rubbing and patting his back gently. Gerard reaches out and traces Frank’s tattoos with his fingers. Gerard likes his tattoos when he’s big too, obviously; but when he’s little, Gerard is fascinated with them. Frank thinks it helps him relax more, to trace the shapes and colors. He knows that art is therapeutic to Gerard. 

Frank grabs the ginger ale and hands it to Gerard. “Small sips,” he instructs softly. 

Gerard lays his head on Frank’s shoulder as he holds his sippy cup and drinks slowly. Frank goes back to rubbing his back, smiling at the fact that drinking out of his sippy cup is pulling Gerard further into his little space. His eyes are getting more droopy and the grip he has on his cup is loosening. Frank waits until his eyes are closed before taking the cup away and setting it on the table. He shifts, so they are stretched out on the couch, and pulls the blanket over them. 

The next morning, Frank wakes up on the couch alone. 

He sits up, feeling a little disoriented from not being in their bedroom. But, he smells coffee and knows that he’ll find Gerard in the kitchen. 

Frank comes up behind Gerard, who is sitting at the kitchen counter. “Feeling better?” He asks, wrapping his arms around his middle lightly.

Gerard nods and sips his coffee. “A little. Stomach is still a little sore.”

“Oh and I’m sure the coffee is helping,” Frank teases.

Gerard shrugs. “It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Frank rubs his stomach and Gerard sighs happily, “Especially if you keep doing that.”

Frank grins against his cheek. “You’re always in such a better mood after you’ve been little for a bit.”

Gerard stills, which causes Frank to hesitate. He sighs, “Hey, don’t. It’s ok. Come on, we’ve been over this. I don’t mind it when you need to check out.”

Gerard drains the rest of his coffee and shrugs out of Frank’s arms. Frank sinks onto the bar stool next to the one Gerard was sitting on and watches him refill his mug. “It’s not just that,” Gerard begins, “Things just don’t seem balanced anymore.”

Frank frowns and tilts his head, “What?”

Gerard huffs and leans back against the counter. “You’re always taking care of me. You let me walk around here like a little kid, Frank. You fucking drop everything to give me sippy cups and hold me while I watch cartoons like a fucking weirdo.”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Frank sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hates it when Gerard gets insecure about this, about their relationship. “It’s a coping--”

“I swear to God if you tell me it’s a coping mechanism one more time I’m going to fucking slit your throat in your sleep,” Gerard growls.

Frank grins a little at that. How different big Gerard is from little Gerard. Sometimes it’s a little disorienting to hear Gerard curse and say outlandish things after being little. “Ok, fine, I won’t say it. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Other adults cope just fine without resorting to pacifiers,” Gerard says bitterly.

Frank narrows his eyes. “Yeah other people cope with drugs and alcohol.”

Gerard winces. 

“This is better than what you were doing,” Frank says gently.

“There’s something broken in me,” Gerard says in a tiny voice, and it sounds too much like the voice he uses when he’s little. And that just breaks Frank’s fucking heart. 

“You are not broken,” Frank says sternly, and when Gerard rolls his eyes he adds, “Gerard, you’re not.”

“You don’t drink excessively or act like a toddler. You seem to be doing fine with everything.”

Frank has his issues, just like everyone else. He doubts himself and he’s made some really shitty choices in the past that he still carries around. But yeah, it doesn’t eat at him the way Gerard’s demons taunt him relentlessly. Sometimes he wonders if he just got lucky, but never does he think that he’s stronger than Gerard. He doesn’t know if he could go through what Gerard did and not be fucked up too. 

“We haven’t been through the same things,” he reminds him. 

“Most of the things I’ve ‘been through’ have been self-inflicted,” Gerard mutters. 

Frank presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. It’s so hard talking to Gerard when he’s like this, all torn up and unwilling to meet Frank halfway. He’s so fucking stubborn.

“Ok,” Frank sighs, “whatever. The fact is, you’ve been through a lot. I don’t care if you think it’s all your fault and you deserve to suffer or not. I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”

When Gerard doesn’t say anything, Frank removes his hands to make sure he’s still in the kitchen with Frank. 

“I’m not going to let you self-destruct either,” Frank continues once he’s sure he still has Gerard’s attention, “Meaning, you’re going to stop taking on as many commission projects. Cut them in half.”

Gerard opens his mouth to protest, but Frank holds his hand up, “I’m not finished,” he waits until Gerard closes his mouth again and then, “I want you to set half your day aside to work on your comic. Gerard, they’re  _ good _ . You’re an amazing artist and storyteller. If you focus on this, it could be your full time job. You won’t have to take commissions anymore if you let yourself work on this the way you need to. Not in the middle of the fucking night with barely any sleep. Understand?”

“I’m not little right now, you can’t tell me what to do,” Gerard says stubbornly, but there’s no fight in his words. 

Frank grins and makes his way over to him. He puts his hands on his shoulders and rests their foreheads together. “I’m always going to take care of you, regardless of what headspace you’re in,” he says softly.

“It’s not fair,” Gerard whispers, “you taking all this on.”

Frank lifts his head up and pulls away a little, searching his face. “What exactly do you think I’m doing any differently than you?”

Gerard looks at him like he’s clearly missing something. “Frank,”he huffs, “come on.”

“No really,” Frank says, making a beckoning gesture with his hands, “Tell me. I take care of you when you’re sick? You mean the way you take care of me and my shitty immune system every other week? Or I make you dinners? Baby, you cook for me all the time. I read you bedtime stories sometimes? How is that any different than you telling me your stories for your comic books. Or when we’re cuddling on the couch? You’re telling me we only do that when you’re little? Come on, Gerard, admit it. You take care of me just as much, it just isn’t as obvious to you.”

Gerard’s eyes are wet and he sniffles a little. “I hate it when you make sense.”

Frank breathes a quiet laugh. “I know you do. That’s why I love to rub it in your face so much.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gerard mutters.

But he’s grinning, so Frank knows they’re going to be ok.


End file.
